“If she’s turning it into some sort of Real Housewives: Preschool, I’m surprised Piper hasn’t done a zillion interviews with you for the program,” Lauren said. This was starting to make her feel better about Piper’s nasty email—naturally Piper didn’t want a whole chunk of a program being taken up by a mother going through postpartum rage. It seemed too tragic for reality TV.

“Yeah, I don’t know,” Kelsey said. “Maybe she’s a private person. She slashed out a bunch of preliminary questions we asked her to approve. She didn’t want to talk about anything personal. Not even her son.”

“So the show isn’t about motherhood anymore?”

“Well technically, it’s about this school. But who knows?” Kelsey sighed. “Anyway, it’s why we haven’t pivoted to investigating what happened. Piper wouldn’t want an attack—especially on her—to be in a show she’s financing. You know?”

“Do you think I could see your footage?” Lauren had asked. “Like . . . with the parents?”

Kelsey shook her head. “Sorry. Those interviews were done in confidence.”

Later, Kelsey emailed Lauren with Jean’s contact information at Hulu. Can you not mention I gave you this? Kelsey wrote. I think it’s okay you talk to him, but I don’t want to get in the middle—especially if it’s weird.

Naturally, she called Jean right away. She needed to know why someone would drop Piper. The information might save her—save all of them. But the call had gone to voicemail. Jean hadn’t yet called back.

“Parmesan?” Graham asked.

“Uh, sure.” Lauren reached for the canister and sprinkled the cheese. Graham was eating heartily. She tried to recall the last time Graham cooked this dish. The day he’d gotten the job at Ketchup—that was it. Lauren had been eight months pregnant, swollen to the point of bursting and anxious as hell. Sometime in the second trimester, the baby thing had become all too real. She was having a child with a man she’d only just met! Did they actually love each other, or were they just playing house down the coast? Graham hadn’t even gotten around to painting the nursery, so she was considering hiring a company to do it.

“I just don’t know what to do with myself,” he told her. “I feel so stuck here.”

“We didn’t have to move,” Lauren answered. “I thought we both wanted this.”

“It’s easy for you. You’ve made something of yourself.”

She’d felt confused. Was he going to back out? Ditch her one day, turn her into a single mother, stuck in some random beach town? She also hadn’t realized he’d felt so adrift, and that made her feel bad, too. Maybe she wasn’t so attuned to him; maybe they didn’t know each other that well. Maybe the baby was a mistake.